Behold a Fountain

A make-shift fountain sits in the yard. It's ceramic base glazed the color of the sea is a repurposed planter with a micro leak. A tiny pool of water collects at the bottom edge, just enough for the bees to quench their thirst. A bucket cut from an old garbage can is carefully centered inside the base. Tucked in between is a layer of soil, planted with greenery that blooms vibrant yellow. The flowers are host to a variety of pollinators and the soil helps cool the recycling water. Attached to the bucket are two bamboo twigs cradling a tin that once cradled a bird feeder. It now holds a layer of smooth glossy stones. Blues and greens with a scattering of red, the bed of pebbles are small landing pads. The bees stop often for a drink or a bath. And above is a faded bamboo spout, split and rugged where the water flows out. Chickadees and finches frequent this perch, dipping their beaks into the algae-infused stream. The flow is slowed to a white noise gurgle, a soothing addition to bird songs and wind. Each year I think of replacing this fountain, thinking it's time to invest in something new. But the reclaimed elements work well together, offering some respite in the heat of summer. Even the leak serves a greater function, a patch of moss absorbs its slow, patient drip. So I'll continue to attend to this haphazard display and its numerous visitors who pause to partake.